Lines in the Sand
by BookkeeperThe
Summary: Perry's relationship with Dr. Heinz Doofenshmirtz is … complicated, to say the least. Then Phineas and Ferb are in danger, and for a moment everything is very, very simple.


**Notes: oops, I did it again. Also I am, as was always inevitable, descending into darker places. Sorry. (Not really.) Alternate universe where everything is exactly the same except Perry is human. I wrote it with perryshmirtz in mind, but it doesn't necessarily have to be read that way. Tell me what you think!**

**Warnings: canon-typical violence, darker than canon-typical tone.**

Perry had been planning on an easy day. Heinz's last scheme had been complicated and actually mildly worrying, so today's would probably be back down to middle school mischief on the evil scale. In the meantime, he could stretch out in the shade beside Phineas and Ferb, comfortable in the knowledge that they were happy and safe and utterly unbothered by the silent presence of their odd boarder.

"Hey, Ferb!" exclaimed Phineas, and Perry smiled without opening his eyes. Right on schedule. "I know what we're going to –"

Thump.

Thump.

Perry's eyes snapped open, and his blood froze. The boys had collapsed, still and silent, unconscious or – no. _No no no no no _– he was at their side in an instant, fingers searching – there. Strong, steady pulse, good respiration. A quick scan assured him that all their vitals were fine, just fine, just unconscious. Just . . . sleeping, actually, Perry realized as Phineas shifted, muttered something about purple frogs, and settled again.

A screech of brakes had him on his feet again, darting to the fence. It was Isabella, curled up in the middle of the road, but unharmed. The bewildered driver was calling for help, doors slamming open, Mrs. Flynn-Fletcher's shocked exclamation from behind him – and Perry's eyes landed on a particular oddly-shaped tower in the distance.

He didn't wait for the call.

.

.

.

The trap sprang up as soon as his feet hit the floor. He was out of it before Heinz could finish his sentence.

"Perry the Secret Agent, how nice of you to – oh."

Perry bared his teeth in a growl, advancing. Heinz took a step back, face falling.

"Really, Perry the Secret Agent? Are we, uh, are we going to do this right now? I haven't even told you my evil plan yet! This is kind of – oof!"

Heinz went down with one blow. He had managed to get ahold of a wrench during his nervous babbling, but Perry had fury on his side, and the fight was a short one. It ended with Heinz pinned, Perry's knees on his shoulders.

Perry didn't generally use weapons, but he carried them anyway. He was acutely aware of the gun on his hip, the knives at his ankle, his wrist, his back, in the lining of his hat. For the first time since receiving this assignment, he felt the urge to use them.

The color drained from Heinz's face.

". . . Perry?" His voice shook. Perry held his gaze. His mind felt cold and clear like ice, his thoughts as sharp and bright as the blades which were within such easy reach. _Do you know what you've done do you know what I am capable of what I could do to you I know all your fears all your weaknesses all the horrors of your childhood do you realize I could destroy you_

Heinz, as always, seemed to understand. Perry could feel him begin to tremble beneath him.

"What did it do?" Heinz asked, nearly a whisper.

Perry frowned.

_What?_

"I—I didn't mean to – it wasn't ready, I slipped and it fired, I didn't think it hit anything, I didn't know –"

An accident. Of course. Perry slipped off of him, glared for a moment to make sure he'd stay put, and moved to the computer. It was a matter of a few passwords and a fingerprint scan to gain access to archived satellite footage of Danville. He rewound a few minutes, zoomed in on a particular street. Isabella Garcia-Shapiro conscientiously looked both ways, skipped cheerfully out onto the blacktop, and dropped. Similar images played out on other screens (but not his boys; not here). Baljeet Tjinder, collapsed halfway out the door. Irving Du Bois, prone beside his camera. Suzie Johnson, suddenly limp in her brother's arms.

Heinz made a sound as if he'd been stabbed.

"No," he breathed. "No, I didn't _mean _to, I – that's not what I meant it to do at all." He launched himself at the computer, and Perry stepped out of his way. Heinz's skinny fingers flew over the keyboard, and some of the tension flowed out of his frame. "Just sleeping," Heinz said with relief. "You see, Perry? Just sleeping. They'll be fine. They'll be –" He caught Perry's eye, and flinched. "I swear, I wasn't trying to hurt them. I was building a Frog-Inator. It turns things into frogs, see?"

He gestured sweepingly at his latest creation. In front of it sat a violet frog, which croaked morosely.

"Yeah . . ." said Heinz, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "I don't really know why it's purple. There's a whole backstory for the frog thing, but it the moment's gone, now. But I really didn't mean to do anything to all those kids. Weird how removing a single component can make the difference between one thing and a highly complicated, totally unrelated other thing."

Perry shook his head. The adrenaline which had surged through him was ebbing away, and he was beginning to feel annoyed at himself for reacting so rashly. He should have known. Not that Heinz wouldn't try to hurt children – he had once attempted to amass a baby army, after all – but he wouldn't have been so successful so early in the day. And, Perry suspected, he wouldn't have tried to do any real harm unless he was fairly certain that Perry would stop him.

Still, Perry knew he would react the same way if the boys were ever threatened again. He always would.

"Oh, look," said Heinz, pointing to the screens, which were back on real time. "They're waking up."

He was right. Suzie awoke, yawning and rubbing her eyes, to her brother's warm grin. Irving sat up, looking confused. Baljeet's door cracked open, one toe poking cautiously at the threshold as if he suspected it of causing his earlier collapse. Isabella argued with her mother on her front step, waving towards the Flynn-Fletcher household.

"So, uh, all's well that ends well, right, Perry the Secret Agent?" Heinz asked hopefully.

Perry held his gaze icily for a moment, then sighed. Those blazingly brilliant boys who didn't know the meaning of fear, and this flickeringly ingenious man who knew it all too well. They were going to be the death of him. But Heinz was right. No one was hurt. And it had all been an accident, after all.

He nodded his acquiescence, shoulders slumping.

_Fine. I'm going home. _

He picked up a pen on his way out, flicked it over his shoulder. His coat rustled in the resulting explosion as the Frog-Inator self-destructed.

"Oh," said Heinz blankly. "Right. Curse you, Perry the Secret Agent."

Perry raised a hand in tired acknowledgement.

"Perry."

He paused with his hand on the doorknob, glancing over his shoulder. Heinz was still at the computer, watching him with wary eyes. Perry was struck once again by how childlike he was. All his bluster, all his bitterness – but he was just a boy, at heart, all theatrics and raw emotion. He was still trying to figure out the rules.

"Just out of curiosity, what would you have done? If they weren't – alright."

Perry held his gaze.

_Never ask. _

Heinz looked away first.


End file.
